


Of Laces and Angels

by KarasuNei



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 14:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8756971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarasuNei/pseuds/KarasuNei
Summary: When Gabriel wished on a grumpy Ana about his loss of inspiration. Or that AU where Gabriel Reyes is a lingerie designer and Jack a bumbling but absolutely gorgeous model.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr post [here.](http://neikarasu.tumblr.com/post/154058201978/of-laces-and-angels)

* * *

 

Art block was a bitch.

With a frustrated grunt, Gabriel crumpled yet another draft and dunked it across the office. Deadline was knocking at the door and the lack of inspiration was kicking him in the ass. He needed something new, something fresh. Unfortunately, in this environment, _new_ and _fresh_ were always sought after, but rarely found. It was harsh and it was annoying, and it was a kind of challenge that Gabriel knew far too well, but also hated the most.

People told him that this would take time that he needed to be patient with his creativity. That it needed nurturing just as much as a plant needed water and sunlight.

What a load of bullshit.

Once those people were at the peak like he was, reality would be a completely different issue. Time would not stop to wait for whatever sappy poetry one might wrought. It moved forward ruthlessly, and those who wasted it would only end up at the bottom of the pit.

Kind of like what Gabriel was doing.

Rubbing a tired hand over untrimmed beard, Gabriel made a grab for his phone out of habit. He had been sitting here for the last four hours or so, the entire day yesterday and then more before that. A break was well overdue. Taking a sip of his coffee (and almost spat it out because of how cold it was), Gabriel scrolled through a bazillion messages. The designer ignored most of them, vaguely thinking he should get a new number and give his poor assistance a raise.

One text finally caught his attention, sent at the odd hour of four in the morning, two days ago.

Ana Amari had a bad habit of nagging people into doing things that _she_ wanted (no wonder why Fareeha went to work at Gabriel’s company instead of her own mother’s.) And their entire relationship was built on Gabriel defying Ana. It was stupid, but it worked out between them and Gabriel couldn’t count how many instances there were that their constant bickering and picking each other’s brain had saved a major project. They worked in two completely different fields, and their ways of executing their ideas were two sides of the spectrum. Not to mention how much their personalities clashed. And yet, no-one could name a bigger friendship than theirs in this biz.

A sardonic, half-amused smirk played at the corner of Gabriel’s mouth as he read through Ana’s message. Out of a whim, he texted her back, at a lack of better things to do.

_Ana. I design women lingerie. How the fuck is going to your show helping me any?_

His phone rang almost immediately. The gleeful, manic piano tune made his eyebrow twitch.

“Yes?”

“Gabriel. You are gay.”

“My market niche is female.”

“And you are surrounded by enough tits and ass to have your balls all shrivelled up.”

Gabriel frowned at the description. A few seconds of silence ticked by. Ana sighed on the other end.

“Come to my show, Gabriel. You have barricaded yourself in that hole for a whole week. Things aren’t going to blow over if you step out for a couple of hours. It would be healthy. Assuming that you haven’t drowned yourself in scraps and broken ideas yet.”

One look around his workshop confirmed that Ana was right. In _some_ regards. His usually colour-sorted bolts lay unravelled and tangled together. Balled up papers strewn across the floor, various tools scattered all around work surfaces and there was one single random Louboutin peeking out from under his desk.

Still, Gabriel needed to hold onto his stubbornness, “If I was dead then I wouldn’t be talking to you now, would I?”

He could almost _hear_ Ana’s disapproval stare, “ _Gabriel_.”

“ _Fine_. I’ll go to ogle then.”

A few days later spotted the designer at one of the best venues in town, the Pacific Design Centre, front row seat, elbow to elbow with Ana Amari herself.

“Tis a shame you don't enjoy modelling.” Was the first thing she said, giving him an appraising look.

Gabriel was wearing something Ana designed for him exclusively (and that said a lot because the woman hardly worked on the field anymore, she preferred staying in the background and reeling in talents nowadays.) Black shirt had two top buttons undone, teasing patches of skin and obvious rolling muscles. His pants were crushed velvet, hugging his legs in just the right curves yet subtle enough to not be overly provocative. Long, fluttering leather trench coat finished the whole apparel, with sleeves rolled up to his elbows artfully.

Gabriel knew he looked good. Ana had made sure of it. She was flaunting him around, as per usual, if her company’s emblem dangling at the end of his belt wasn't evident enough. Still, it might just serve his purposes. Gabriel wasn't the type to sleep around much, in contrary to common belief, but maybe a good fling with one (or a few) of her cardboard mannequins tonight would kick up his inspiration.

Lights and music were tuned appropriately to the theme of the show. Suit after suit strolled by, impeccably tailored but never too different in design. Classy, some a bit more casual, but nothing Gabriel hadn't seen before. There wasn't a lot one could do with something that had had a set mould for centuries.

At least the models were eye candies.

At that note, Ana had been side-eyeing Gabriel a lot. Years of being friends told Gabriel that she was up to something, but he was enjoying himself far too much to care right then. Shame, no inspiration yet, but at least he was getting somewhat relaxed.

Which was exactly why Gabriel was taken off guard when _he_ entered.

Skin, pale as the light of the moon. Hair fine as spun gold and eyes bluer than the sky. His colouring was a stalk contrast against the jet black of his suit and he moved with a feline grace, fluid sways of the hips as the man made his way down the catwalk. The fabric of his clothing emphasised toned body in _all_ the right ways, and the model radiated an aura of confidence that only those gifted few had. He was undeniably beautiful, in a way that was a waste to put him in such generic clothing…

“I bet he looks good in lace no.76...” Gabriel muttered under his breath without thinking.

The stare Ana gave him felt like it could burn off the side of his head. Out of instinct, Gabriel glared right back, before noticing the amusement dancing in her eyes. He blinked oh-so slowly, before realising what _he_ just said.

“Oh.”

Ana chuckled aloud, turning back to watch her company's show with a far too smug expression on her face, “ _Oh_ indeed, Gabriel.”

He narrowed his eyes, “You planned this, didn't you?”

“That would be your words, darling, not mine.”

“You only call me _darling_ when you have a scheme cooking up.”

Ana didn't even so much glance at his accusing tone, but the smirk definitely widened at the corner of her lips.

Gabriel cursed at his own carelessness. Still, he stared after a wool-clad, sculpted backside as it sauntered away.

An hour later spotted Gabriel with a ridiculous bouquet of roses (his assistant had looked at him like he was mental at the request) at the backstage in front of a very dumbfounded model.

“Uh...Thank you?” Jack Morrison (he also learned that from his poor assistant, because Ana was a bitch) accepted the flowers with uncertainty. Poor kid probably thought Gabriel was some kind of stalker.

A high-profiled, fashionable stalker.

Even though he still wanted to strangle Ana, Gabriel put on his best business smile (which might or might not resemble one of a hungry shark) and offered Morrison a hand to shake.

“My name is Gabriel Reyes and I am a fashion des-...”

“Wah, wait a second!” Tentativeness turned into one of bewilderment as Jack sized him up and down, only to flush crimson immediately, “You are _the_ Gabriel Reyes??? Owner and lead designer of _Gabriel's Angels???_ ”

Hot _and_ adorable. He could work with that.

Gabriel gave Jack an indulgent smile, or at least that was what he aimed for, “Yes. Yes I am. Listen, Jack, isn’t it? Cool, so…” Smiled again at Jack's muted nod of awe, “I will get straight to the point. There is a winter collection coming up in a few weeks and your skin is just the right shade of milky for its dark colours. Would you like to privately model some prototypes for me?”

Now that was just creepy. Apparently Jack's stars truck self had just caught up on that too. A frown marred smooth brows á the model regarded Gabriel quizzically, “Sorry, but don't you design women lingerie?”

Gabriel could almost feel a sweat trailing down his back, “I'm paying you $300 per hour.”

“...Where is your studio?”

So it seemed Gabriel would be buying Ana some Noka chocolate after this.

\----------------------

Coming into Gabriel's Angels headquarter was quite an overwhelming experience. Jack was used to the more...subtle, professional and frankly a bit dull environment at _Wadjet_ , so the sheer colours and bustling clouds of giggling ladies were all... _new_ to him.

The building was in Downtown LA, a little rustic on the outside compared to the surrounding skyscrapers, but explosively decorated with various bold murals and graffiti on the inside. The artworks were themed by floor, and Jack almost missed where he should be going at the receptionist, trying to find every detail of the wall behind the desk. Flustering, because he didn't want to make a fool of himself first day on the job (whatever it was), Jack scurried into the elevator and almost had a heart attack upon seeing who was in there.

Amélie Lacroix and _the_ Angela Ziegler, Gabriel's Angels most notable poster faces.

Holy crap.

 _Holy crap_.

Amélie didn't even glance up from her phone when Jack stepped in, manicured fingers tapping at lightning speed. Mile-long legs crossed at the ankles, her dark clothing and the glimmering surfaces of the elevator made pale skin shimmer in an ethereal near-violet that matched her blue hair immaculately.

On the other side, Angela was a pleasant contrast of peach, yellow and white. Her hair was sun-kissed and her skin fashionably tanned. Golden hairband gave off the illusion of a halo and aqua eyes twinkled behind amber shades.

“Come on in.” Matte crepe lips smiled kindly at the stunned Jack, holding the elevator door open for him with one slender finger. All his usual charms went flying out of the window as Jack stuttered a tiny thank you, trying hard to not fall all over his face as he shuffled inside. Amélie did glance up then, if only for a second to give Jack a mildly disinterested look that had the hair on his nape crawling. Her unnatural golden eyes were eerie in real life...

At least Angela took pity on his situation.

“Intern?”

“Oh! Uh-...” Jack swallowed and resisted the urge to fidget because _holy shit Angela Ziegler was talking to him_ , “I was asked to come model for Mr. Reyes?”

That certainly got Amélie’s attention, the clicking noise of nails on plastic ceased. However, Angela didn't seem too fazed.

Jack had to admit, that worried him quite a bit.

“Call him Gabriel, dear, everyone does.”

Jack made an uncertain agreeing noise at the back of his throat. To be fair, he was curious, if not wary, about what he was asked to do. Three hundred bucks an hour was a lot, even in his line of work, only the very top models, _female_ models, got paid that much. Coming here, Jack was expecting to be asked to do some weird shit, and though he did indeed need the money, it anything went over the line, he could always leave.

Right?

“To be fair, I don't know what exactly I'm doing here.” Jack admitted aloud, mostly to Angela. The lead Angel of the brand flicked a bejewelled hand nonchalantly, chuckling.

“Oh, it's okay. Gabriel will probably just borrow your back and hand, press on some materials and mutter to himself.”

Jack blinked, not quite sure if that vague description could be taken as reassurance or not, “You don't model them then?”

“Not raw materials, no.”

The elevator dinged then. Feeling like a trapped hare, Jack said goodbye to both models and stepped out, Amélie’s unblinking gaze pricking the back of his neck.

Monochrome was the theme of this floor. Endless weaves of black paint streaked across white walls and ceiling, depicting everything and anything from faces to religious symbols. The hall was empty, saved for a midnight leather lounge and a single desk, where a lady was seated, almost completely hidden behind a staggering amount of paperwork. Hairpin tinkled in the quietness of the hall when she looked up at his entrance.

“Mr. Morrison, is it?” The woman asked, big brown eyes regarded Jack from behind thick glasses, “Mr. Reyes is waiting for you.”

Thanking her, trying to be as quiet as he could because she seemed like she was having a massive headache, Jack pushed through the dark wooden door, heart hammering in his chest.

The interior of Gabriel's office was...rustic.

The walls were bare bricks, unpainted and uncovered, with various industrial stations installed along them. A warm glow emitted from the central lighting, providing enough illumination yet wouldn't muddle up the fabric colours. Spools of threads and armaments lay neatly organized on the hanging cabinets, and bolts of cloth leaned against the wall. The floor was carpeted grey, with stray bits of strings and fabric scraps lost among the coarse hair. Not something Jack would expect, in short.

Among all this stood Gabriel, hunching over the ebony marble island in the middle of the room, muttering to himself and sketching by an even bigger stack of fabric. Gone were the tailored fancy wears, this Gabriel Reyes was in a black tank top that showed off thick slabs of muscles, clinging to his skin in a way that left little for imagination.

And _damn_ , those skinny jeans…

Gabriel was so engrossed with what he was doing, he didn't even notice Jack being there until the door clicked close. Smouldering eyes lifted up and suddenly zeroed in on the model.

Jack's mouth went dry.

“Ah, you're here.”

Amidst the crowd a two days ago, Jack couldn't quite hear this rumble in Gabriel's voice. He sounded like thunder in the distance, deep and echoing in the silence of his workshop. If Jack had thought Gabriel was predatory then, this was something entirely different. This was the panther in his natural habitat, dark and seductive in his own dangerous ways.

Jack couldn't help the involuntary shiver down his spine when Gabriel sized him up. If the designer noticed, he didn't comment. Instead, Gabriel picked out _something_ on his island, and tossed it to a speechless Jack.

“Try this.”

 _This_ was a fucking triangle with some strings on it. A _lacy_ triangle.

Jack was having so many warring thoughts and emotions right then, he thought he might spend all the money Gabriel paid him to go to a therapist. Even though the air conditioner was on full blast, Jack could feel himself sweating under the three piece suit he had foolishly put on.

What else had he expected? This was a _lingerie company_ for fuck's sake. Arguably the biggest one in the world, but still…

“Chop chop, sunshine, 300$ an hour. I'd like to get my money's worth.” Gabriel's voice whipped across the space between them, having no mercy. And Goddamnit! Did he really have to cross those arms???

This was probably the most embarrassed, confused and turned on Jack had been in a long time. He almost asked where the bathroom was, but decided against it. He and other models had to strip naked in front of designers all the time, this wouldn't be any different.

Or at least that was what he tried to tell himself.

Honestly, Jack didn't know what to do. He contemplated ripping off all his clothes in one go, but then Gabriel might think he was too eager. Too slowly and the designer might thought he was weird or attempting something... _unprofessional_. In the end, Jack’s movements were jerky and clumsy, lacking the usual grace and confidence he usually carried, and generally feeling like an idiot.

And Gabriel's burning gaze on him didn't help, either.

Bit by bit, the clothes fell into a semi-neat pile on a stool nearby. Jack's bare skin quivered when exposed to the cold air and he knew he was as red as a lobster even without a mirror. Muscles furled tight with stress, Jack hooked his thumbs into the band of his boxers, hesitated.

Gabriel didn't divert his eyes.

And _fuck_ , Jack was half-hard already.

Wanting to cry, he suddenly turned his back to the designer and stripped off the last garment as quickly as he could. Fumbling, Jack almost fell over pulling on the lacy underwear as quickly as he could.

Gabriel's drawn out, breathless chuckles sent a jolt straight to Jack's groin.

 _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_.

With ears feeling like they were on fire, Jack did his best to stomp down the wavers in his voice, “Uh...it's-are my butt cheeks supposed to hang out?”

Immediately, he felt stupid. Well, _stupider_.

“Jack, you act like you have never seen a thong in your life.” Gabriel deadpanned and, _damn it all he was walking over_ , “Now stay still so I can get some measurements.”

_Oh no...Don't touch. Don't touch…_

Cool tape slid around his waist, just above where the string was hanging over his hips. Followed by the slightest touch of Gabriel's skin, warm, calloused and inviting. Jack was so hyper sensitive now, he could feel the designer's breaths dancing on him, raising goose bumps and so, _so_ close to his ass…

Jack was panicking now. For obvious _reason downstairs_.

Just as sudden as he approached, Gabriel was gone, and Jack couldn't decide whether he was relieved or disappointed. His heart was hammering so loudly, Jack was sure it could be heard clearly in the workshop's dead silence. He was too afraid to turn around, and judging by the muttering, Gabriel had returned to his scribbling.

For minutes that seemed to drag out into an eternity, Jack stood there awkwardly, naked with only a meagre piece of lace to cover whatever pride he had left. At least the lack of action and the cold calmed _little Jack_ somewhat.

He shouldn't have thought he could get away so easily.

Something was tossed over his shoulder, something soft and equally lacy.

“Put that on, would ya?”

This time, _that_ was red and a _bra_.

Jack sputtered.

“I-I-I...don't think I-ah...I don't think I have the right...uhm, _assets_ for this???”

Gabriel's tone never changed, “You are a B-cup.”

“ _But-but-but_ …”

“$300 an hour, _sunshine_ , and I ain't got all day.”

Jack sincerely fucking wished the floor would crack open and swallow him whole right there and then. His only hope would be his back was too broad for the delicate garment and he wouldn't be able to put the piece on properly.

Nope.

It fit, unfortunately, if not a little tightly around his chest. Jack fumbled clumsily, not used to such article of clothing, and he was sure the straps were crooked. So focused on the task at hand, Jack almost jumped when he felt a hand, _Gabriel's hand_ , on his shoulder, fixing the strings for him.

In his shock, Jack stood frozen. His diminishing hard on was perking up in interest once more, especially when Gabriel's large, warm hand slipped between the hooks and the hollow of Jack's back, checking the gap.

“Turn around.”

The rumbles were too close to his ear. Biting down a whine, Jack spun and came face-to-face with his tormentor.

 _Godfuckingdamnit_.

This up close, he could see every shade of brown in Gabriel's eyes. Like liquid chocolate, they were so alive with an intensity that left Jack dizzy. His brows were drawn into a scowl, like he was displeased, but it also suited him, like it was his perpetual expression. Short beard, that Jack had an unexpected urge to run his hands over, framed high cheekbones better than all the artworks he had seen so far in this building.

And this fine piece of a man just touched his pectoral. Very, _very_ gently.

If Jack got any harder, the thong would probably snap. Worst thing was...he wasn't sure if that was entirely unwanted.

Once again, Gabriel left in a blur, leaving Jack reeling in the faint scent of fresh aftershave.

This went on for another two hours, each time with a different piece of lingerie. Jack was like a mannequin of sort, having random garments thrown at him. Each time Gabriel would take Jack's measurements, the lingerie measurements _on Jack_ , grumbling under his breath about technical shit and never once a comment about Jack himself.

In a sense, Jack should be relieved, because while this was weird as hell, Gabriel didn't do anything border lining creepy (also _in a sense_ ) or sexually harassing him. On the other hand, Jack was kinda anticipating _something_ to happen.

At least Jack was slowly getting less awkward about trying the stuff on. He did, however, have to turn around every time Gabriel handed him underwear, because Jack was pretty sure he had a permanent boner now.

Damn sexy designers and their sexy, smoky voices.

“Got one more thing for you.”

Jack totally did _not_ jump at that.

This time, the panties were dropped into his hands instead of being tossed across the room. Averting the smouldering eyes, Jack inspected the garment instead. At least these were more or less _normal_ , without the ridiculous strings and, dared Jack say it, looked almost _comfortable_.

“Put it on later. I know you're hard.”

Sexy, asshole-y designer it was, then.

Jack’s embarrassment was now fighting against the urge to punch that smug smirk flying off Gabriel's lips. Judging by the look on his (way too handsome) face, Gabriel knew exactly what Jack was thinking, but he didn't comment in favour of talking to Jack. Something about wanting Jack to try the garment on for the day, then report back on the next about how it felt, if it was itchy or whatnot.

Jack let most of that slipped by, because he already had enough issues trying to not cum right where he was. Why the fuck did Gabriel's voice have to be so deep? Must he speak so closely to Jack??? Goddamnit, he wondered how those arms feel like, how those abs would be pressed against his-...

Needless to say, Jack escaped the studio like a bat out of hell, with zero dignity left to his name and slamming the door at Gabriel's cheery “See you tomorrow!” He was dishevelled, blushing like a schoolgirl, and dove straight into a bathroom some floors down. His excuse was that he needed to put on the garment Gabriel gave him, that this was part of the _job_ , but _fuck_ , _little Jack_ _had other ideas._

If Jack was any more embarrassed today, he would melt into a puddle of goo and never seen walking the face of the earth again.

The tip of his cock was strained and purple, weeping as he pulled it out of his pants. Biting his lips, Jack went about his business as quietly as he could, feeling both shame and a thrill welling up in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't had to do this since he was a teenager, and even then…

 _Fucking smug, hot, beautiful jerk of a designer_.

Sweating profusely, Jack leaned his forehead against the cool stall, almost sobbed when he cleaned his softening, spent member. Yeah, he definitely was hitting the bar tonight. Maybe a good laid would get his suddenly raging hormones in check. If Reyes could stay professional, so could Jack. There were plenty of equally hot people out there, didn't have to be Reyes. Jack could easily pick up one of them, get a good fling and get back to normal.

Right?

 _Wrong_.

Bar? He did go to. Getting laid? Not so much.

It wasn't like there weren't plenty of easy on the eye, single men frequenting where Jack went. And it wasn't like it was difficult for him to pick up anyone either. Jack could bat an eyelash and everyone available (or not) in the room would line up at his feet.

The problem was Gabriel.

The designer wasn't even in sight, and Jack could still feel molten brown eyes on him, prickling at his skin and boring into his very soul. It didn't help that with every shift, Jack was sorely reminded of _what_ he was wearing, of how close he had been with Gabriel. How those large, calloused hands had touched his skin, how cool breaths tickling and caressing in a way that was more intimate than anything Jack had experienced.

Jack ended up spending the evening alone with a beer bottle in a secluded booth, Googling about Gabriel and feeling like the biggest loser in the world. Much to his disappointment and surprise, there wasn’t a lot of gossips surrounding _Gabriel’s Angels’_ elusive designer. His models, the Angels, were most talked about when it came to the brand, but not the mastermind himself. There were tidbits surrounding his tight relationship with Jack’s boss, Ana Amari, but not much else. Reyes was never seen with a lover in public, all information were limited or vague. Reyes had a spokesperson, his own PA that Jack met at the front desk, Mei-ling Zhou, and she was just as tight-lipped as the man himself. Speculations were made, but outside of the limelight, it seemed like the press deemed Gabriel just another typical workaholic, and skipped over him in favour of his flashier, glamourous models instead.

It would seem Gabriel Reyes had achieved what a lot of people struggled to have, keeping his work separated from his private life.

And it had Jack frustrated.

He left the bar early, fuming quietly to himself, and ended up jerking off again in the confine of his bedroom, keeping the pair of ridiculous laced panties clutched to his chest. There, lying spent in his bed and feeling a sense of incompletion, the worst kind of it all, Jack felt more foolish than ever.

But hey, the more difficult the game, the sweeter the reward, right?

He ended up going back, five days a week, to _model_ for Gabriel Reyes. Every day it was more or less the same, with the designer being exceptionally quiet and the model going home frustrated. Despite his seemingly teasing moves, Jack soon found out, with much disappointment on his part, that Gabriel was far more interested in his own work and was content to leave Jack where he was.

Yay, sexual deprivation.

Jack considered asking his boss for more information about Gabriel, but thought against it. Ana was already leering and making off-handed comments about what was happening behind “closed door". Even though he blushed furiously every time the mad woman crackled, Jack's exclaims of “nothing!” was the cold hard truth, in spite of him wishing it was different. To make matters worse, Ana Amari wasn't the only one who had something to say about the entire situation.

More than once, Angela Ziegler had dropped by Gabriel's workshop. The first time was purely for business purposes, Jack was sure. The later visits... _not so much_.

“Hey Gabi, any _progress_ made yet?”

“Saaaaaaaaaaaay, boss, you got so much quiet, _alone_ time in here. Don't you want to...part from your work and do something else a little more... _exciting_?”

“You're so tense these days. You should find some kind of _release_. I'm sure your lovely helper here won't mind.”

And while Jack couldn't get any redder from the teasing, part of him was screaming internally for them to become a reality. On a particularly stressful day (Jack knew because Gabriel was grunting a lot and he was throwing a lot of _stuff_ at him), the designer finally had enough chased a gleefully giggling Angela out with a roar and a ruler. The door slam thundered in the usual silence, drowning out most of Gabriel's rapid swearing. Blinking at the sudden outburst, Jack watched as Gabriel trudged back inside and, with a hoist that had his arms rippling and Jack's throat going dry, the designer perched himself onto the working island. Smoothing a big hand across his close-cropped scalp, Gabriel breathed loudly through his nose.

“Sorry about that. Should have made her an imp instead of Angel.” He grumbled, visibly displeased.

Swallowing thickly, because this would be the first time something not work-related was spoken to him, Jack’s brain raced to keep the conversation going, “It's fine. Ana is much worse.”

Molten eyes lifted up. Jack's breath was caught in his throat. It seemed like it was the first time, since he started coming here, that Gabriel actually looked at him. At _Jack_ , and not the materials he was wearing. Like Gabriel had finally realised that Jack was being there.

He should have felt offended, but a chuckle rolled out, thick and velvety, and melted Jack right at the spot.

Why was he so pathetic?

“Yes, quite.” Gabriel agreed.

And he started stretching.

Oh, _God_.

Jack was so entranced with the way Gabriel's muscles moved, he almost missed the next words escaping the designer's mouth, “How can someone so quiet and meek like you stand working for that harpy anyway?” Jack bristled, but Gabriel continued on, not catching his expression, “But then again, she might just enjoy that a little too much.”

The implications behind his words had Jack greening a little, “Oh _Lord no_! I'm gay!”

Gabriel stared at him like he had grown two heads. And Jack wished the ground would split open and eat him whole right there.

Naturally, the designer’s laughter startled him. It was drawn out, breathless and slightly ridiculous. It made Jack turned on, embarrassed and just a tad mad at the same time, and he growled, trying to be as intimidating as any man in a lacy piece of lingerie could.

“Stop laughing!” He demanded, and it only served to further amuse Gabriel.

“Sorry.” The designer waved his palms in the end, even when puffs of chuckles still escaped him, “It was meant to be a joke.”

“Oh.” Was all Jack could manage, feeling dumb again, “Uh...Sorry. It's just I've never heard you…”

“Talk like a human being?” Gabriel supplied, sliding off in one fluid motion, an enigmatic smile playing at the corner of his lips, “Not many have.”

Jack didn't know how to answer that, so he kept his mouth shut. For once, his curiosity won over any other desire, and Jack's eyes followed Gabriel as the designer moved about. Now that he spoke, without any underlying purpose, Gabriel seemed a little awkward, a little flustered. It dawned on Jack that perhaps Gabriel wasn't used to making small talks like this, that away from professional interviews and talent scourging, Gabriel Reyes was just another man, not knowing which word to use before an almost complete stranger. And, to Jack, he suddenly just became a lot more beautiful.

“Well, for what it's worth…” Jack broke the silence, gaining the attention of one blinking Gabriel. Keenly feeling how parched his mouth was, Jack decided to take the plunge anyway, “Ana seems awfully fond of you, even if her tongue is sharp.”

The smile he was granted wasn't anything Jack had seen before. It was small and hidden, almost non-existent if he hadn't focused so intensely on Gabriel, and it had Jack's heart quivering with a warmth that had nothing to do with how much his skin was burning.

Even if Gabriel had not touched him in any explicit way, Jack was completely and utterly fucked.

Jack's temporary “job" became a lot more bearable since that day. They started making small talks. Insignificant, nonsensical things that had Jack's belly doing little flip-flops and Gabriel's chuckles rolling. Jack found out how passionate Gabriel was about his job, how Gabriel came into the industry.

“I have three sisters. We were never well-off growing up, so secrets were hard to keep. Hard to not listen to them complaining about their underwear and how bras hurt them after every long day at school. So that's how it started out I guess. I mean, everyone deserves to feel comfortable, and special in their own way, right?” The designer told Jack out on a whim one day, without even looking up from his sketching pad. He talked more that way, Jack had discovered, even if his words were a bit jumbled.

It never failed to bring a smile to Jack's face, watching Gabriel pouring his soul out on his sheets. Jack had gotten a lot less jumpy and self-conscious too, having taken to perch at the edge of Gabriel's working station while the latter figured out what to give the model next. They were getting more relaxed around each other, conversations flowed better and they were a lot less quiet around each other now. Not the kind of relationship Jack was shooting for in the beginning, but dared he say...it was much better than what he had expected.

“I have a sister too.” Jack said, smiling because he couldn't help it, and blushed when Gabriel's eyes zeroed on him.

“You never said.”

Silly of him, but it was difficult to not squirm (and hopelessly aroused) when Gabriel stared at him like this. Like Jack was the sole object of his focus, and nothing else mattered.

It was a good feeling, yet terribly vexing at the same time.

“It never came up before.” Jack tried to pass his flustering off with a shrug, hunching a little. The thought of his sister calmed him somewhat, however, and Jack found himself smiling again, if not quite melancholic.

“Her name is Lena. She's a brilliant kid. The most cheery girl of her age that I know, really.”

There was a silence between them. He diverted his eyes away, feeling the far too familiar sense of discomfort. Still, Jack could feel the man's gaze burning into his skin.

“What happened to her?”

It startled Jack a little, “Pardon?”

For once, the designer seemed exasperated, “For a model, your poker face is terrible.” A pause, then, “Look, it's fine if you don't wanna share, but it clearly looks like you want to say something else. So spill it. It's easier to say it aloud rather than bottling it up. Trust me. I know.”

Blinking owlishly, because he wasn't entirely sure how to answer to that, Jack fidgeted again. There wasn't any way to make this sound less depressing, not to himself at least, and in the end, Jack decided to just get straight to the point.

“She has cystic fibrosis.” Jack didn't want to go into a lengthy explanation about what the disease did to Lena, it was brought up enough for him to no longer feel the pain. But at the same time, it wasn't a positive thought to linger upon, despite how optimistic his own sister might be about it.

Once again, Gabriel just proved how wonderful he was as a person. There wasn’t any faked sympathising noises nor did he pretend to know what Jack was talking about to save his own time. Brown eyes were upon Jack with rapt attention, waiting for the model to continue yet not pushing him to should he didn’t want to. For someone who was said to be not socially approachable, Gabriel was doing a brilliant job of making Jack feel comfortable around him.

There was a curd of something, deep within Jack, that wasn’t too far from the lust he usually felt for Gabriel. But this something was warmer, something that had his lips twitching into an unconscious smile. His fingers stopped twisting, but his toes curled and _that something_ bloomed in his chest, unexpectedly and yet so naturally.

If people asked, Jack Morrison fell in love like that, perching on a concrete work station and clad only in a pair of purple lingerie.

That night, he didn’t get any sleep. Tossing and turning on his bed, Jack was torn. He hadn’t felt in such a way for a long time, not since he was much younger and far too naive. And he didn’t think falling in love with _Gabriel Reyes_ would be the best thing to happen to him. Not only Gabriel was so far out beyond Jack’s league, and he hadn’t expressed any sexual desire towards Jack since they started working together, except for some mild teasing.

But Jack would be damned if he wasn’t going to try.

He started flirting more. Subtly so, because Jack didn’t want to risk Gabriel kicking him out for being obscene (then again, Jack wasn’t sure if it could get any more obscene than seeing him in these garments on a daily basis.) His speech got a little more suggestive, his hips canted more in Gabriel’s sight, and he spent more time than strictly necessary around the designer. Jack was a great flirt, his natural good looks and charms combined could make any guy drop on their knees so fast there would be a tunnel all the way to China.

Not Gabriel Reyes though, and Jack wasn’t even surprised.

The vain, shallow side of his was offended. A little bit. And the love-struck, hopeless romantic side panicked. Majorly.

Gabriel’s Angels’ annual Fashion Show was drawing nearer every day, and Gabriel himself seemed no more interested in Jack than a friend. Jack kept telling himself that it was the stress from the deadline, seeing how absorbed Gabriel was with his work, especially for this incredibly important final piece he was rambling on and on about. The designer barely had time for himself, much less for dating, at the moment. Hell, there was this one time, Jack forgot his house key at the studio. Since it was well over office time, Jack didn’t have much hope they would let him into Gabriel’s sanctuary of all places, especially when Mei’s desk was empty.

Jack didn’t expect to see Gabriel cuddling with a bolt of cloth, snoring on the floor. Even in his sleep, Gabriel’s nose was scrunched up and his forehead creased in his dreams, whatever they might be about. He had been so wrapped in his work, he had forgotten to take care of himself, again. Jack wondered if Gabriel had even eaten yet. Clucking his tongue, Jack ran down to the lounge, where other models took breaks, and grabbed a blanket. Gabriel was right where Jack left him, mumbling something incoherently in his sleep. With a sigh that was way too fond to be exasperated, Jack tucked the man in, hands lingering a little longer on hardened shoulders and back.

What he wouldn’t give to have this man’s heart…

Despite his more or less positive thinking, Jack found himself growing steadily hopeless about the whole ordeal.

“I swear he’s not gay. He’s worksexual.” Jack mumbled to his shake, stirring the thick concoction around sulkily.

Angela Ziegler sighed at his woes, patting Jack’s shoulder in sympathy. Ever since bumping into her on his first day, Jack found himself getting along handsomely with the supermodel. All teasing and jokes aside, Angela was terrific, sunny in personality and sharp in wits. They often went out for lunch together, when their schedules matched anyway, and sometimes, like today, were accompanied by the infamous Widowmaker herself.

Said Amélie Lacroix looked up from her phone for once, and tipped down her scarlet-tinted glasses to stare at Jack.

He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, feeling very much like a five-year-old that was caught stealing a cookie.

“Morrison. You are his muse.” Amélie deadpanned, her face and voice betrayed no emotion.

Jack gawked, “I’m a what?”

Amélie rolled her eyes, and holy shit the world must be coming to an end, and placed her phone down. Long fingers threaded together, with elbows on the table, her unblinking gaze bore holes into Jack.

“His muse. Gabriel’s muse. Muse. M-U-S-E.” She spelled out slowly, emotionlessly, as if Jack was a complete moron.

Maybe he was.

“…W-what??”

Angela was having a tough time trying to stifle her giggles, “Oh, honey…” She patted his shoulder again, but with a tad of exasperation this time, “Sometimes when he works with me, he gets grouchy because my hair is not the right shade of blond. Then I’d tell him to call you in, and he is just like “That’s a great idea, Angela!” as if he doesn’t have you in mind already.”

Something surged in his heart, a happiness that was overwhelming yet confusing all the same.

“Me?”

“Yes. You. Jack Morrison.” Amélie massaged her temples, a pinch between her brows that marred perfect ivory skin, “There is a bet going on around the office.”

“A bet?!” Jack’s voice turned high-pitched at the information.

“For when you will bone.”

If Jack could faint out of sheer embarrassment at that moment, he would have. Angela made a chiding noise at Amélie, who took a casual sip of her cappuccino like they were just discussing the weather, and smiled kindly at Jack. However, the empathy didn’t really shine through, since Jack could clearly see Angela was trying her best not to laugh.

“Jack, I’m sure the feeling is mutual between you and Gabriel. He just needs a little nudge, that’s all.”

“A little?” Amélie snorted behind her napkin, “I hope your _little_ bring pickaxes and hammers, because that man’s head is harder than granite. Do you even remember how long it took for him to confess he actually likes what Amari makes for him instead of bitching incessantly about it?”

Angela sighed again. And Jack felt what little hope he had flickered into a fizzling candle.

As the remaining days before the show swiftly flew out of the window, Jack tried to distract himself but focusing more on his own life. At least Lena was growing steadily more chipper than usual, which was always a good sign. Every winter was tough for her, because she mostly got stuck in the hospital and had to skip the majority of her classes. Despite her optimism, Lena often grew moody confined on the bland white bed and in the blander white room that smelt too sterilised. Jack wanted for her to move to LA with him, because of the weather and because then he could take care of her better, but of course she disagreed. Even if Lena was adopted, Jack could have sworn she inherited the family’s signature stubbornness. But he could see her point. Lena had worked her ass off to get to Juilliard School, there was no way she would want to move away from New York at this point. She was grumpy every time this subject was brought up, especially when she was stuck in the hospital. So it warmed his heart to see her happy, that one weekend when he decided to fly out and see her on a whim.

Certainly didn’t expect to see her room filled to the brim with flowers, though.

Roses, lilies, daisies, lilacs, peonies and sunflowers lit up the room with colours, a bright contrast to the bleary winter and the walls surrounding them. The covers and pillowcases of her bed was still white, but now dotted with tasteful grey gothic patterns, and perched at the edge of her bed was a _huge_ , soft, crème-coloured bunny with sparkly eyes and lavender pearl beads around its neck. It was almost like stepping into Lena’s own studio apartment, lively and cheerful just like herself. And this would be the first time she had greeted him with a smile, in here, that wasn’t forced.

“Jackie!!!” Lena crowed on her bed, every unruly strand of hair flopped around excitedly as she waved him over, “Was wonderin’ when you’d ever show up!!!”

“You seem awfully happy today?” Jack grinned. Her enthusiasm was always contagious, and he soon found his anxiety subsiding.

“Well, ‘course!! How could I be a grouch when my brother went out of his ways to make my stay so comfortable!!!” Lena shot off, tugging at a dumbstruck Jack to sit down. Her expression changed into one of suspicion and worry within a second, looking at her brother, “Wait, this isn’t putting a strain on your finance isn’t it? Jack! I told you paying for part of my tuition is enough! You don’t have to do something so excessive!!!”

It took five whole minutes of rapid questioning from Lena and another few for a flustered Jack to explain for them to be clear on the fact that no, Jack wasn’t the one who sent all this stuff even though his name was on all of them.

“But then who…?”

They were both a little concerned. The last thing they wanted was to have Lena stalked by some creepy old man. A few calls to the flower company fixed that, however.

“A lady with an exotic accent, huh?” Jack mused after hanging up, then shook his head, “That’s probably my boss.”

Made sense. Ana was one of the few people at work that he talked to about Lena’s condition. And she had been extremely nice over his current situation.

The weekend turned out to be what Jack had needed to clear his head over the whole situation with Gabriel. He didn’t know whether or not they would have the opportunity to work together again after the show, but at the very least Jack hoped that they could remain friends. Funny, how he had been so reluctant in accepting this job, and now he was so reluctant to leave. Jack wondered if they did end up staying friends, would Gabriel reciprocate his feelings now that he didn’t have to chase his deadlines.

Jack resolved himself over that matter, and expected himself to come back fresh, unburdened.

But of course, life had other plans. Especially when he found out Ana wasn’t the one who sent all the gifts to his sister.

“Flowers? What flowers?” The woman raised an eyebrow over the paperwork she was reading, instantly making Jack turn bright red.

“Ah…There was someone who keeps sending my sister nice things this past month and I figured since you’re the only one at work I’ve mentioned to about Lena’s issues, you were the one that sent the things…”

His voice grew weaker towards the end, feeling more and more foolish by the second under Ana’s stare.

She wasn’t going to fire him over this, was she?

Dropping the paper down, Ana Amari threaded her fingers together and regarded Jack coolly, “I wasn’t the one who ordered such thing. But perhaps you should ask Gabriel?”

Sputtering, because the idea alone was ridiculous, plus he really didn’t want to give himself any more false hope, Jack shook his head frantically, “Couldn’t be! Plus the florist said it was a woman that placed the orders!”

“Well then, my dear, either your sister has a secret admirer that creepily signs all that crap under your name, or, it’s Gabriel getting Mei to do all the work as per usual.” Ana went back to her paperwork without a beat, a clear indication of telling Jack to get the hell out of her office. Which he did, hastily so with a burning face.

And thus, Jack was back to square one.

He didn’t have the gall to ask Mei, much less Gabriel about it. Jack hadn’t been able to get his head out of it like he thought, and the question of whether or not Gabriel cared that much for him, going so far as to treat his own sister, hung over his head. He was pining harder than ever, no pun intended, and Jack didn’t even know what to do with his feelings anymore. Gabriel didn’t even remotely reacting to all his flirting, their talking time had reduced significantly as December crept closer, and Jack found himself bringing Gabriel food more often than actually modelling for the guy. Mei was neck-deep in work as well, running ragged by Gabriel’s constant demands, and Jack was sure if he didn’t nag either of them to take a break and eat, they would drop dead at any given moment.

“Are they always this bad?” Jack asked Angela one day, when they bumped into each other at the main hall. To be fair, he was seeing less of her and Amélie recently. With the show just around the corner, their schedules were also filled with photoshoots and promotion runs.

“Trust me, last year was worse.” Angela rubbed her forehead tiredly, “Mei fell sick in the middle of it and Sombra accidentally leaked half of her promo photoshoot. Fareeha was getting into this major beef with an ex-angel and the performer last year cancelled at absolute last minute. By the end of it, I’m pretty sure Gabriel was going to go apeshit and shoot all of us. Or himself.”

Jack blinked, “Oh wow.”

“Yup...Seriously, he needs to use that lounge of his more often.” Angela blew an invisible speck of dust off her shades, wrinkling her nose, “I swear Amélie sneaks in there to nap more than Gabriel opening the damn door.”

“Wait, he has _a longue_ in his studio?”

That had the supermodel pausing for a moment, “Oh gods, you don’t know.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, Angela mumbled something lightning fast and unintelligible in German, no doubt being quite vulgar in her wording.

That unnerved Jack a little.

He toned down his advances afterwards. Gabriel had enough things on his plate already and Jack didn’t want to contribute more into his pile of worries. Besides, as he tried to reason with himself further (with not much conviction) that Gabriel, despite having such a glamourous life, was one of those people who would want to take everything slow. So Jack helped out where he could, working on the prototypes with Gabriel and taking care of the designer as the clock ticked by.

In all seriousness, Jack considered leaving Wadjet and just work full-time for Gabriel. He was sure Ana wouldn’t mind. He hadn’t been working for her for too long, and he felt more at home here at Gabriel’s Angels. It wasn’t like anyone was being unkind over at Ana’s, but Jack found himself being unable to mingle with the crowd there sometimes. Genji and Hanzo had so much drama going on all the time, while Torbjorn could get so uppity about every half an inch of fabric. Meanwhile, everyone at Gabriel’s was so cheerful and friendly. Other than the occasional teasing, the models and staff alike were always excited when Jack was around.

Even if Gabriel wouldn’t want Jack to privately model for him anymore after the show, Jack was sure he could apply for something else here. And, he must admit to himself, Jack would still like to spend as much time as he could around Gabriel, desperate as it might sound.

Despite his uncertainty and helplessness about the whole situation, Jack found himself getting draped in increasingly expensive materials in a varying degree of skimpiness. Gabriel mumbled to himself more than talking to Jack and, while disappointed, Jack found it endearing watching Gabriel like this. Jack took solace in the fact that Gabriel had chosen him to model all these works of his before any of his actual model, including Angela herself.

Though there was still possibility that while Gabriel did indeed see Jack as a muse just like Angela said, he might not harbour any sexual interest in Jack, if the designer’s placid reaction to all the flirting was enough of an indication. If that was the case, then Jack had been making a fool out of himself all this time, and Gabriel was just being polite with him.

Or, as Amélie suggested, Gabriel was just being incredibly dense.

Still, Jack couldn’t help but grew excited as Gabriel’s projects and prototypes came to life day after day, the fruits of their labours showed with every photoshoot and test runs the other models took. Amidst his infatuation with Gabriel, Jack also felt a great sense of pride. Even though he felt like he didn’t help much in the brainstorming and creating department, his body was the blueprint to Gabriel’s creativity.

Jack blushed at the thought, and only became redder when he realised Gabriel was talking to him.

“…final piece of the show.”

“Pardon?”

Jack squirmed under Gabriel’s amused stare. Eyes darting down to what Gabriel was holding, Jack almost had a heart attack.

On first glance, the prototype was shaped just like any regular, trendy crop-top. In closer inspection, the draping sleeves were an intricate net of bedazzled chains, the bra underneath inlaid with impeccable rows of crystals. Tear drop-shaped stones hung from below the cups, prismatic in the light, and with them bedazzled chains that looped and connected in an intricate pattern that Jack’s eyes couldn’t quite make out. A tasteful silver and sapphire, this was truly a work of art. Jack supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by how magnificent it was. Gabriel had been going on and on about it, slaving himself away to achieve utter perfection for the grand finale. The man truly worked magic, and it showed.

Yet what awed Jack most was how excited Gabriel was. The designer’s eyes shone brighter than any of the rhinestones and the grin he was wearing took Jack’s breath away. Jack had never seen Gabriel this happy, this proud, and his heart fluttered, desperate like bird trying to escape its cage.

Gabriel was so beautiful. Like this, without a care in the world, content in his own elements and happy in his achievements.

“What are you lookin’ at? Come on! Try it on!!” The designer urged, breaking Jack out of his stupor. Jack flustered, knowing that he had made a fool of himself again, but was also taken aback.

“…Me??? But isn’t this the final piece???”

The roll of Gabriel’s eyes were more giddy than anything, “Only prototype, sunshine. No actual gem, just crystals. I wanna see it on you first before the one for Angela is finished.” The designer held out the piece again expectantly, “The wings just came in for it as well, so I wanna see the test run. Go on! Try it!”

Still sceptical and quite a bit scared to even touch the thing if he was honest with himself (not to mention _floored_ that Gabriel actually made a prototype of some so special _just for him_ ), Jack glanced back a forth from the piece to its creator uncertainly, “I’m not sure…”

“Oi, don’t make me come over there and force it on ya!”

Jack gulped audibly. The answer would have been yes, because he had been dying for Gabriel to tear his clothes off and had his way for a long time now. But his head refused to nose, and Jack carefully took the garment, if it could be called so, from Gabriel’s hands.

With how complicated the design was, of course Jack encountered some problems.

The sparkling panties were fine, they were just like any other garment, but there were a whole net of chains and links and hooks that he needed to put in place. Within twenty seconds, Jack was completely lost.

Gabriel’s eyes on him the entire time honestly didn’t help.

“Can you please…stop staring and _help?!_ ” Jack grunted after having put his arm through the wrong hole the eight time.

The designer in question was nothing short of amused.

“ _Please?!”_

With a loud chuckle that went straight to Jack’s groin, Gabriel was right there in his face before the model even realised it.

“Now, wouldn’t you just love that?”

Oh, God.

Gabriel _purred_.

Smoky, thick and rumbling voice was a cascade of hot coal in Jack’s stomach. Hands, large, calloused and warmer than a summer night, smoothed down the beads and stones, feather-light on Jack’s skin. Every touch was a brand to his mind, and Jack was hyperaware of everything, all that surrounded him just screamed _Gabriel_. Every breath, every scent was heady, welcoming and oh-so arousing.

Usually, when Gabriel had to step in and help Jack adjust, the designer did so with practiced ease and steady efficiency.

Not this time, however.

Gabriel lingered, his fingertips slid on Jack’s muscles, smoother than satin. He caressed every bead, waited on every inch of glittering fabric. A hint of pressure against the belt made Jack shiver, skimming just along the line. There was no hiding his hot puffs of breath, and Jack was so painfully hard now, Gabriel would have to be blind in order to not notice. And oh, _Lord_ , did Jack want Gabriel to notice. Those touches were intentional, there was no mistaking it. Gabriel’s eyes were on Jack’s, molten, heated and churning with something that Jack couldn’t quite grasp.

“ _Jack._ ” Gabriel breathed, leaning in just a bit closer.

Jack’s mouth went dry.

A sharp knock cut through the air.

Gabriel snapped away from Jack, and he was at the workstation before the model could blink. The perpetual scowl was firmly back on his face, and it was as if Gabriel had transformed into a completely different person. Thrown off guard, Jack stood rooted at the spot. He couldn't move or say a word when Mei dashed in, informing Gabriel about a minor change in the guest list and whatnot. Words passed Jack in blurs, and he only snapped out of it when Gabriel dismissed him.

Jack had never escaped the office that quickly, caught in a tangle of emotions and more confused than ever.

The last few weeks towards the show both zoomed away too fast and ticked by too slow for Jack. It was a strange sensation. Sometimes time seemed to drag out to a point that he was crippled with anxiety. Sometimes...he would look down for a moment and it would be nighttime already. It was infuriating. Jack was sent to assist the models more than spending time in Gabriel's studio, in fact, he hadn't set foot in the studio since that day.

Jack was rightfully paranoid. Worst part was there wasn't anyone he could speak of this to. Everyone was driven mad already and Jack didn't think his bitching would be appreciated. So he tried to drown his worries in reminding people to eat and rest properly, dashing around the place to help with photoshoots and generally keeping himself centered instead.

December pounced them so suddenly, it seemed like all was not prepared.

By then, the main hall was perfectly transformed into a glamorous catwalk, with luxurious seatings and enough strobe lights to give anyone a seizure. Backstage was set with all kinds of equipments, from racks of clothes to makeup booths, changing stations and streaming cameras. Rows of velvet seats lined down along the stage, and at first glance all could tell that they had gone out of their way to fit the Fantasy theme this year. Flowers, branches, backdrops, scattering petals and mist machines, everything was to give the room a surreal touch, yet still wouldn't steal the spotlight from the models. Celebrities and guest performances were booked, rehearsals and test runs jampacked the entire month before the actual show.

Jack supposed he shouldn't have been surprised about being invited to the show, with an all access backstage VIP badge to boot.

By then, he wasn't too sour about what happened anymore, having come to a conclusion that he should just ask for what he wanted. After the show finished, that was it. If Gabriel said yes to his advances, then yay, great. If not...well, then Jack should probably enjoy this night as much as he could. Fortunately, there was so much going on that it was easy to get distracted from his more unfavourable thoughts.

The big night came, ten times as fabulous as he had seen on TV, once or twice when Lena forced him to watch the shows with her. Music boomed from the speakers even before the guests filled in. The company had scored Lúcio for the performance this year, guaranteeing an explosive success considering how popular the DJ was. Jack could spot dozens of recognizable faces, among them international superstar Hana Song, actress Satya Vaswani and his own boss Ana Amari herself. There was Chief Editor of massively successful fashion magazine _the Junkers_ , whom had Mei freaking out the most about the last few weeks (not just because she didn't want the company to get a bad article on the magazine, but also because she hated the guy), Jamison Fawkes.

Honestly the man's fashion choices was _questionable_ at best to Jack, with his ripped, patched pants and steampunk/apocalyptic-esque accessories. But hey, high fashion, Jack guessed.

Reporters and paparazzi went wild at all the famous appearances, fans lining up outside of the premises, and the models posed on red carpet as per tradition, in their various shades of designer dresses. Jack whooped and cheered from behind the scene, getting infected with the crowd’s enthusiasm even though he was not among them. Gabriel was nowhere in sight like always, but Jack kept his thoughts away from the man for now, knowing that he would be treading down a dangerous route otherwise. He thought of Lena instead, knowing that she was dying of jealousy that she couldn’t be here. He had promised to take plenty of pictures and hoard signatures for her (which was already done prior to the show, but Lena didn’t know that.) It brought a smile to Jack’s lips. Lena’s sunny attitudes, even not here in person, always managed to keep him upbeat.

As the models were given cue to go backstage, Jack followed, excited for the show to begin.

Lights dimmed, guests settled on their seats, backstage lined up.

And the magic began.

One by one, the models marched down, brighter than the first blooms of spring, yet seductive and mysterious as cold moonlight. Adorned with Gabriel’s own handiwork, extravagant jewelries and heels that were to die for, they continued the yearly legacy of capturing the world’s attention with their brilliance.

Sombra, being voted the brand’s hottest fact this year, led the charge with her signature neon pink-purple ombre lingeries, paired with a matching set of dark-blushed wings. An eerie reminder of the setting sun over an ancient, unexplored forest. With playful, taunting strides, she fit perfectly with the role of a mischievous sprite. The ingenious of Gabriel Reyes’ wasn’t just in his top-notch designing skill, but also in his absolute mastery in being able to tell a story with every line he produced.

A forest shrouded in perpetual twilight, cursed to never know the warmth of the sun. Amélie was the Midnight Queen, with her heart closed and rejecting the touch of all joy in life. With fear in their hearts as the shadow slowly consumed their beloved home, her subjects scrambled to find a cure, unknowing that the Queen’s trusted councilor, Sombra, was plotting to overthrow the throne. The finale would be Angela’s arrival as their saviour Angel, lifting the curse and showcasing the incredible bejewelled set that was due to be auctioned for charity by the end of the show.

Dramatic plot and cheesy ending aside, Amélie’s holographic black and purple monarch wings were absolute killer pairing with her set, accentuated by bold rubies and silver. Even though Jack had a special fondness towards the last piece (he blushed every time he saw a set he modelled in), Amélie’s was among his most favourite of the show. Lúcio’s choice of music was phenomenal as well, while matching the theme’s atmosphere, it added just a right touch of modern twist to the fairy tale-like atmosphere.

Classical and dubstep, Jack might have to look into this later on.

Every set introduced brought a new wave of awe to the audience, and anticipation was running high towards the last appearance. They were doing an excellent job at rousing the crowd, and Jack couldn’t help feeling an overwhelming sense of pride, for himself, Gabriel and everyone that was working to bring all of this to life. All was working up to Gabriel’s vision, ensuring a smashing success, ending the year with a bang.

The universe had other plan.

Jack didn’t register it immediately when commotions broke out. He was clapping excitedly for Amélie’s last set when backstage staff started yelling.

Angela had passed out, still half way through changing into the final piece. Gems and hooks clattered to the ground, effectively ruining the entire piece. Jack watched in horror as Gabriel barged through the crowd, his dark skin several shades paler even under the golden light.

“What’s going on?!” He heard someone snap, and another answered, fear evident in their voice, “Angela never ate her lunch! Or dinner!!”

It seemed so stupid, it was almost as surreal as the stage.

Jack cursed, just as Gabriel emerged from the crowd, Angela almost invisible in a fluffy bathrobe and the designer’s massive arms. The designer spread the crowd, ignoring all panicked questions, and rushed Angela straight to the medic. For a fraction of a second, their eyes met across the room, and Jack’s heart jumped into his throat, seeing the fear and disappointment etched behind a false mask of stoicism.

Everything seemed to blur out of existence. From the swelling of finale music to Amélie’s angry French-spitting tantrum, from people scrambling to collect the remains of the final piece to Ana looking alarmed as hell at the front row.

Nothing else mattered, but the shattered look in Gabriel’s eyes.

Jack must have been mad. He probably was, how he dashed away from the scene. How he must have left a dent on the elevator button and how he almost broke the key to Gabriel’s studio. Blood rushing in his ears, Jack knew there was a high chance his entire career, and possibly life, could be ruined after tonight. He didn’t know what compelled him to do this, rummaging through Gabriel’s various boxes and drawers, fingers shaking in the quietness that reflected in every breath he took.

Jack’s heart skipped a beat when he found the prototype.

He didn’t exactly have a coherent memory of what happened next.

Jack remembered riding down the elevator, shaking in the one pair of heels that he was ever given to model in, and in the prototype that was several degrees less glamorous that the real version. He remembered brushing through the crowd of chaotic staff, none sparing him a glance. He remembered marching towards where all the wings were stored, left open due to the ensued panic.

Jack didn’t remember seeing Gabriel from across the room, frozen in time as he suddenly realised what was happening.

At the very moment, Jack was no longer the bumbling, blushing fool in the confine of Gabriel’s studio. Under the limelight and swelling music, he slipped back in the the corner of his mind, into doing what he did best.

Jack made it to the catwalk just as the light dimmed.

With feline grace and and utter confidence that was drilled into his head since he was fourteen, Jack made his path down. White-gold wings flared in sparkling light, his every step swayed to the beat, every rhinestone and crystal sparkled in his movements. The mist parted in his wake, his skin glistened in the moisture and the temperature was low just enough to make him blush, so naturally beautiful he made all around him dulled in comparison.

Jack didn’t notice the wide range of reactions that combed through the crowd. There was shock, there were whispers, confusion...but above all, there were cheers, whistles and thunderous claps that shook the whole hall.

He didn’t snap back into his senses until he made his round, returning to the backstage and coming face-to-face with Gabriel Reyes himself.

It all happened so fast, Jack could have sworn he broke his neck in the following emotional whiplash.

In one fragment of a second, Jack felt the world crumble beneath him. All hopes and dreams, his yearning for Gabriel were ground into dust and blew out the window. The weight of what he had just done was sky-shattering, and he was sure everything he had worked for, everything that was his future, was forfeited.

But then Gabriel offered Jack his hand.

Something must have gone wrong, Jack thought, because here he was, side-by-side with the man of his dream, marching down again in the crowd’s booming applause. The flock of Gabriel’s Angels strewn out behind them, and Jack could have sworn he saw _Amélie smiled_ . _His boss_ was standing among the mass of people, jumping up and down in utter glee with all her usual grace evaporated.

Jack wasn’t too sure. Because all he could feel at that very moment was Gabriel’s fingers squeezing his. There was a whirlwind of faces and noises. His feet screaming for having to wear ten inch heels for so long. A pull in an unknown direction and Jack followed in a haze, only knowing to never let Gabriel’s hand go.

His mind flickered back to life, only to be overloaded and died again when he was pushed against the cold elevator wall, Gabriel’s body covering his and fiery lips kissing the daylight out of him. Jack’s spine turned to goo when a growl vibrated against his skin, hot breaths caressing along his neck in Gabriel’s conquest.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this, sunshine.”

Eyes snapping open, Jack stared at this confounding creature with utter disbelief. But no question was allowed pass his lips, they were occupied once more with Gabriel’s hungry ones, and Jack allowed himself, wings and lingeries and all, being manhandled into Gabriel’s lair, through a tiny door that he had always thought was a storage closet.

_So this was the lounge Angela was talking about…_

He didn’t really care enough to take a look around, because Gabriel was everywhere, kissing and nipping and stroking.

Gabriel’s formal wear went flying in every direction within a heartbeat.

Jack almost sobbed when he felt toned abs straddled between his thighs. Skimming hands slid down his sides, unhooking all the complicated straps with a deadly precision that only a creator of such work could have. Gabriel’s touch was just as unrelenting as his personality, and yet there was an underlying tenderness, in the way he held Jack’s chin so carefully as they kissed, that broken something within the blonde and filled him to the brim of his soul with light.

“So beautiful.”

Jack felt rather than heard the whisper, echoing against his skin and trembling within his very core. The way Gabriel was looking at him, like an overflowing glass of champagne, Jack floundered in the emotions that he had never seen before. They kissed again, slower, sweeter, their breaths entangled and their noses touched ever so softly. A smile pressed against the corner of his lips, Jack’s fist curled around Gabriel’s broad shoulders, giddy and still doubting this reality.

“It was supposed to be romantic, y’know?” Gabriel hummed, dragging wet kisses along Jack’s jaw, chuckling at the small, keening noises he drew out, “After party, date night, candlelight and all that shit.”

“If you stop now…I’d kill you. Been waiting...took fucking long...for this.” Jack huffed, scrabbling at Gabriel’s chest when calloused fingers found his nipple, tugging and twisting in experiment. Huh, since when was he naked?

Gabriel’s rumbling laughter rolled against Jack’s temple this time.

“As you wish, mi ángel.”

Knees swaddled satin sheets, Jack almost screamed when fingers trailed down his spine, lower and lower until one, slickened since he didn’t know when, slipped inside of him. Arching back, Jack almost tipped over, in many senses, before realising the wings were still on. He fumbled with the straps, only for Gabriel to stop him.

“Keep them on.”

The underlying commanding tone had Jack shuddering, and the searching digit made Jack tremble like he never had before. Warm hand smoothed down his abs, played with his navel and cradled his thigh. His inside was stirred faster, and Jack couldn’t help the moans that escaped him, sinful and begging for more. He clenched down when another finger entered, and shouted when nails teased the blushing tip of his cock. Head and shoulders thrown back as Gabriel picked up his pace, Jack was lost to the world when a thumb pressed against his slit. He wiggled his hips desperately, feeling Gabriel’s own hardness jutting on his skin, only to let out a silent scream when he was suddenly pumped and jerked at the same time.

If he wasn’t so out of it, Jack would have laughed stupidly at the rustling feathers behind him, so out of place and context as ribbons of cum splattered all over Gabriel’s skin. This was good. So good. So much better than those lonely nights locking himself away, imagining and pining. It only got better when Gabriel switched their position, pinning Jack down and loomed over with his bulk. The dark man grinned, almost predatorily when Jack giggled, just a tad drunk in his bliss.

“Hope you got more than that in you. I am far from done with you, sunshine.”

They met halfway in a kiss, sloppy and so filthy Jack didn’t even have the words to describe.

“Bring it.”

Gabriel’s fingers pulled out with a loud, obscene pop, so sudden it made Jack cry out in a strangled noise between surprise and protest, only to sob when Gabriel’s cock slipped in without a warning. Just like his touches, Gabriel’s thrusts were powerful with a deadly accuracy, hitting that one special spot within Jack every single time. He was relentless, with his arms between Jack’s shoulder blades and “wings”, and his mouth sucking angry red marks on every inch of ivory skin he could reach. Gabriel didn’t stop even when Jack came once more in violent spurts between their bodies, and fucked into the blonde despite Jack’s thrashing in the oversensitive aftershock. Jack screams became an incoherent string of Gabriel’s names, bucking like an uncontrollable colt. He was gone, his vision blotched out, begging and crying in incredible overwhelming pleasure. He sure didn’t notice the stutters in Gabriel’s movements, how the other man was breaking at the seams, and it was only out of sheer stubbornness that was allowing him to hold on.

Despite this, Gabriel didn’t stop. He flipped Jack over in a flurry of feathers, not once breaking contact, and continued fucking into Jack. Knees bracing Jack’s legs apart, Gabriel used this angle to assault Jack’s senses mercilessly, grinding hilt-deep with lightning-fast strokes. Groping hands on his ass pushed Jack back to meet each thrust, the blonde coiling into himself as he was  _shattered_ when a third wave hit him, amplified with the feeling of Gabriel’s gushing seeds, of the man’s teeth clamping down against his back.

Needless to say, Jack wouldn’t be walking down another catwalk in a long time. And that he had no complaint over. It was the most intense, borderlining animalistic, sex Jack had ever had, and he was pretty sure he passed out plenty of time over the course of whooping three hours, but every minute was worth the wait. The sexual frustration between the two of them sure had found its way out.

Later on, when they woke up in a mess of feathers and each other, after getting over the fact that Ana barged in on them naked together, Jack would learn about how much Gabriel was obsessing over him just after the first few times he met Jack. How the designer struggled to keep his desire unknown for the sake of his work and against his own models’ attempts to push the two of them together. The constant texts from Ana. His raging _need_ whenever Jack flirted with him. His plan to woo Jack _the right way_ , with dates and candlelight and romance and shit like he said. How Gabriel Reyes, badass and edgy as he portrayed himself to the world, was a total helpless _sap_.

“Wait, you mean we could have had awesome sex all this time?!”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“...You know, for someone in this biz, your mind is stuck in the 70’s. And people call _me_ Captain America...”

“...That gives me an idea.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Visit my tumblr for more Blizz trash: [Nei Karasu](http://neikarasu.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ./go cry in a corner


End file.
